Flavius, unless your delights
were tasteless and inelegant,
youd want to tell, and couldnt be silent.
Surely youre in love with some feverish
little whore: youre ashamed to confess it.
Now, pointlessly silent, you dont seem to be
idle of nights, its proclaimed by your bed
garlanded, fragrant with Syrian perfume,
squashed cushions and pillows, here and there,
and the trembling frame shaken,
quivering and wandering about.
But being silent does nothing for you.
Why? Spread thighs blab its not so,
if not quite what foolishness you commit.
How and whatever youve got, good or bad,
tell us. I want to name you and your loves
to the heavens in charming verse.
Flaviuss Girl: to Flavius
written byGaius Valerius Catullus
© Gaius Valerius Catullus